


the taste of my love

by pipsqueakparker (lafbaeyette)



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: First Dates, Firsts, Fluff, Happy Valentine's Day From Me to You, Indoor Picnic, M/M, Sweet, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, first Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22722013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lafbaeyette/pseuds/pipsqueakparker
Summary: Crowley, Valentine’s Day.I’ve never celebrated Valentine’s Day. It’s a load of crock if you ask me, another way to capitalize off people’s innate guilt. What kind of partner are you if you don’t buy your significant other chocolates? Flowers? A fancy dinner?Not to mention I’ve never had a significant other on Valentine’s Day. I’ve never had a significant other, full stop.Well, I never had.I do now. I have Simon.--AKA, The One With Their First Valentine's Day
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 13
Kudos: 262





	the taste of my love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff/gifts), [Icarus_Solaire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icarus_Solaire/gifts).



> Yes, hello, I'm not one for this holiday in particular but damn I love these boys and I wanted to write them being soft and sweet. So, here we are. 
> 
> I'd like to dedicate this fic to the Thirsty Trinity, [ The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_honeyed_hufflepuff) and [ Icarus_Solaire ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarus_solaire). 
> 
> And many many many thanks to [ Sourcherrymagiks ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sourcherrymagiks/) for the quick beta! 
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day!

**BAZ**

I’ve never been one for most holidays. 

We celebrated Christmas as a family, and when my mother was alive I remember doing things for Mother’s Day and even Easter. 

For Father’s Day we would give Father a new tie and leave him alone for the remainder of the day. Halloween never interested me. I’m not sure how many mages you’ll find celebrating, in all honesty. Dev and Niall do, for the drinking, and the revealing costumes. Alcoholism and sex, that’s the only reason anyone would celebrate Halloween. You could probably make the same argument for most holidays. St. Patrick’s Day, Bonfire Night. 

Valentine’s Day. 

Crowley,  _ Valentine’s Day _ . 

I’ve never celebrated Valentine’s Day. It’s a load of crock if you ask me, another way to capitalize off people’s innate guilt. What kind of partner are you if you don’t buy your significant other chocolates? Flowers? A fancy dinner? 

Not to mention I’ve never  _ had  _ a significant other on Valentine’s Day. I’ve never had a significant other, full stop. 

Well, I never  _ had _ . 

I do now. I have Simon, I’ve had Simon since Christmas Eve. Since the night he said he wanted to be my terrible boyfriend, and now he  _ is _ . He still is. He’s still mine, two months later. 

I can’t believe it. 

He’s still mine, but I haven’t seen him in two weeks. I’m back at Watford, I’m the only one that came back. Simon’s with the Bunces, trying to process, I think. Trying to get better, trying to move past the events of Christmas. 

The first month was maybe the hardest. He was nearly catatonic, he spoke even less than he did his first year at Watford. The only real communication we could get out of him were shrugs and grunts, and when he’d hold my hand. He held my hand a lot, and I tried to hold him together as best I could. 

His therapist has been helping, I think. He’s not back to the boy he was before Christmas, and we’re not sure he ever will be, but he’s coming back to us in some ways. 

He calls me every night, and at first I’d try to talk to him only for him to not respond. It was frustrating, until I realized he just wanted to hear me. Hear my breath. Because we’d spent the past several years of our lives sharing a room, being barely five feet apart every night. Falling asleep to the sound of the other’s breathing.

After that I’d give him a little run down of Watford, maybe some ridiculous thing Dev said, or when one of the first years made the mistake of staying out in the Wavering Wood past nightfall. And then I’d just lay there, until he fell asleep and Penny picked up and said goodnight, and then I’d try to fall asleep to the unrecognizable silence of our room. 

Now when he calls we do talk. Sometimes he falls asleep in the middle of his sentence, and it’s so endearing I could tear my own heart out because it’s just too much to feel. 

I’ve never celebrated Valentine’s Day, but I assumed I’d start if I ever fell in love. 

**SIMON**

Penny’s been acting strange all morning and I’m not sure what’s going on, but I don’t like it. I don’t like not knowing, and I don’t like being suspicious of my best friend. 

I reckon it has something to do with Micah, maybe she’s got something planned and she’s antsy. It is Valentine’s Day after all, surely they’ve planned something. 

She’ll probably call him tonight, and I’ll have to sleep on the sofa again. I don’t mind, really, except I always wake up to one of the little ones gawking at my wings. 

I can't blame them, even I sometimes gawk at my wings. Surely I would if I were their age and met a boy with wings and a tail. 

Anyway, Penny’s been acting strange. 

She was up before me this morning. She made pancakes, and bacon, and eggs.

Penny never cooks. 

Well, I suppose she could have used magic, but there were pans out on the stove. 

And when I take a bite of my pancake it’s still a little mushy in the middle, yet somehow charred around the edges. 

She definitely cooked this. 

I want to grill her, but I’m too tired. I’ve no reason to be tired, I’ve just gotten up, but my eyes and my chest and my head feel heavy. Too heavy to question Penny. 

My therapist says that’s normal, that being tired is a symptom of depression. 

I told her I didn’t really feel depressed, just… empty, numb sometimes. 

She said that was also a symptom. And that it was common following a traumatic event. And that I need to work on processing my trauma, and that I won’t always feel this way. 

If I’m honest… I’m not sure I mind it. 

I used to feel so much,  _ too _ much, until my emotions bubbled to the surface and mingled with my magic and I went off. 

_ Feeling _ is how I managed to tear holes in the magickal atmosphere, and cause The Humdrum. Become The Humdrum? I’m still not quite sure, no matter how many times Baz and Penny recounted it. I don’t like to dwell on it. I’m still trying not to think. (My therapist says that’s an unhealthy coping mechanism I need to move away from. I told her I’d think about it.) 

I don’t eat a lot of breakfast, I’m not really hungry. That’s something else that’s changed, my appetite. But I eat enough that Penny doesn’t feel bad, and then I slump down onto the sofa. I find myself here so much I think I’ve left a permanent indent here by this point. 

I turn on the telly but I don’t really watch it, I kind of space out for I don’t know how long. One minute I’m watching a bloke explain the proper ways to roast a chicken and the next we’ve moved onto a different bloke walking us through some overly complicated soup recipe. 

It’s not the soup that’s snapped me out of it though, it’s Penny’s voice. 

“Yes, he’s right here,” she’s saying, and when I turn she’s stood right behind me with her mobile to her ear. She holds it out to me, looking right exasperated, and says, “It’s Basil.” (I’ve really got to get my own mobile someday, stop hogging Penny’s anytime I want to talk to Baz.) 

“Hullo,” I say, because it’s still fairly weird, having to talk to Baz on the phone. I’d never done that before, until he went back to Watford and I didn’t. Now it’s the only way I can talk to him most of the time. He tries to come visit when he can, but he is still in school. And even if he doesn’t have much competition to be top of the class now that Penny isn’t there, he’s not going to let his grades suffer even for me. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Snow,” he says, and even though his voice is tinny over the speaker it stirs something in my chest to hear him say those words. I never thought I’d hear Baz wish me a happy Valentine’s Day, ‘specially not in such a soft tone. “Have you and Bunce got anything planned?” 

I know I should say it back, but the words stick on the back of my tongue. Instead I just say, “Oh, er. No, no, I don’t think so.” A pause. “Have you?” 

It feels like a stupid question. It probably  _ is  _ a stupid question considering I’m his boyfriend and I’m the one he would obvioulsy have plans with if he had any, right? But asking it was the only thing that felt right at the moment, it was the only thing that came to mind. 

“Wouldn’t you know if I did?” He almost laughs, I can kind of hear it in his voice. It’s new, this light tone of his. I’m so used to him snapping or hissing or making biting remarks, but now when we talk it’s soft and gentle and  _ nice _ . 

“Uh, yeah, guess so,” I say because I don’t know what else to say. Baz does laugh then, and he’s quiet for a moment before he takes a breath and continues. 

“Actually, I did have an idea.” 

“Oh?” 

“There’s this boy, a right disaster of a boy, honestly, but I think I’d like to take him out. Maybe on a proper… date.” 

I get that same jolt in my chest again, and my stomach turns, and I breathe, “Oh…” 

“Oh?” 

“Uhm,” I clear my throat. “Where… would you take this bloke, then?” 

The line goes dead. 

Did Baz just hang up on me? 

What the fuck? What the  _ fuck _ ?!

I’m just about to call him back when I hear some shuffling behind me, I hadn’t realized Penny was still there. 

“Can you believe that arse, he just -” I start, turning ‘round and stopping short when I see that it isn’t Penny behind me. 

Baz is standing there, right there in front of me, a smirk stretched across his bloody gorgeous face. 

Baz is  _ here _ . 

I don’t remember standing, or moving around the couch, or really how I ended up in Baz’s arms but now I’m here and it feels so  _ good _ . His arms are around my waist, pressing me closer to him, and his face is tucked into my neck and I can feel his breath against my skin. 

“Missed you,” I whisper, and I realize it’s true as soon as it leaves my mouth. I  _ have  _ missed him, missed being near him. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have class?” 

“I won’t fail out for missing one day.” 

I lean back so I can look at his face, at the light in his grey eyes that I can’t remember ever really seeing before. 

_ Is that because of me?  _ I almost let myself think it, but quickly push it back down, and I reach for his mouth instead. 

_ Kissing  _ Baz is almost as good as being held by him, and I missed this, too. His lips are cold, but soft, and he moves them slowly against mine. 

“Oi, I thought you were taking him somewhere else to snog.” Penny’s back, stood in the entryway with her arms crossed over her chest. 

Baz is smiling when he pulls away, and that’s still a sight I’m getting used to as well, a genuine smile on his face. 

“Alright, alright,” Baz looks down at me. “Go put some proper clothes on, Snow, so I can take my terrible boyfriend out for this blasted holiday.” 

**BAZ**

I’m not sure Simon really has much more here than his usual trackies and t-shirt combo. The nicest clothes he’s ever owned was his Watford uniform, now that I think about it. Luckily, it doesn’t really matter that much, I just figured he’d feel better with a change of clothes and scenery.

As it turns out, Penny has taken him shopping recently, and he does have a pair of jeans that really make me question why I’ve not seen him in jeans more often. I don’t comment on them, of course, because I have more control over my mouth and emotions than he may have when he showed up at my house last Christmas. 

I think his shirt is also new, it looks a little better than most of his clothes that I’ve seen. He looks nice. I mean, he looks bloody perfect, somehow, even with his curly hair still a total mess and bags under his eyes. He looks tired, he looks worn out, but he also looks gorgeous underneath it all. 

“Where are we going, then?” He asks as I reach for his hand, and he lets me take it. Laces our fingers together, even, and my traitorous heart skips a beat. It may never be used to Simon Snow letting me touch him, touching me in return. 

“That’s a surprise.” I nod at Penelope as I lead him to the door, and she’s holding back a smile. “Thank you for letting me borrow him, I promise not to return him too late.” 

“Stay safe,” Penelope calls behind us. And just as I’m shutting the door, “ _ Use protection _ !” 

Simon’s cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink, and I’m suddenly grateful I haven’t fed too recently, because I can’t blush as much as he is after that comment. 

I’ve decided to pull out all the stops today, to give Simon Snow the best date of his life. I’m not sure how many dates he’s actually been on, I don’t know what I’m measuring up to. Did he and Agatha ever actually… go on dates? He never mentioned it, though I’m not sure he ever would have to me, his then-enemy. 

Anyway, I’ve decided to pull out all the stops, but still be mindful. A fancy dinner at a posh restaurant would only make him uncomfortable, I’m sure, so I made alternate arrangements just to get him away from the Bunces for a day.

Which also meant making some…  _ agreements _ to get somewhere I could take him. 

“Where are we?” Simon asks as I park. 

“Fiona’s.”

“Your aunt? Hold on, you’re bringing me to your aunt’s flat for Valentine’s Day?” 

I roll my eyes as we get out and I lead him to the building. 

“She’s not home, don’t worry.” 

Just saying it makes me worry more, as my stomach twists up with nerves.

**SIMON**

Baz’s aunt’s got a nice flat, it seems. Guess I don’t know what qualifies as a nice London flat, really, but it seems it. The door opens into the kitchen, which is spacious and looks completely untouched. Does Fiona use it ever? 

Baz takes my coat and I watch as he hangs it along with his and toes off his shoes. I follow suit, I’d rather not find myself on Fiona Pitch’s bad side just for tracking dirt through her flat. Well, anymore than I already am. I’m not sure the Old Families have any reason to hate me anymore, I can’t be much of a threat without my magic and with the Mage…

Well, I can’t imagine they hold the same grudges now. But you never know. They are the Old Families. 

I don’t want to be thinking of them right now, though. Not when Baz is taking my hand and pulling me through the flat, not when Baz is visibly  _ nervous _ , which is something I’ve not seen before. Baz is never nervous, he’s always frustratingly over-confident. 

“I didn’t think you’d really want to go anywhere too crowded, which would be… everywhere in London on Valentine’s Day,” he stops next to a door, not quite meeting my eye as he talks. “But I thought you’d still want to… get out of the house, just for a bit. So.” 

I watch him, watch his eyes flick from side to side, watch his shoulders rise as he takes in a deep breath and clears his throat. He pushes the door open, gesturing for me to step in first, and I do. 

Fiona’s lounge also looks untouched, I vaguely recall Baz saying she’s not really here much. That explains why it hardly looks lived in. Books line the wall, but they’re pristine and a little dusty, and the few pictures that are hanging are old family portrait types. The Pitches. 

There’s a posh looking sofa in the middle of the lounge, and a table where a large picnic basket has been placed. The room itself is dim, lit only by a soft lamp in the corner. 

I look back at Baz, who still looks nervous, but takes my hand again and leads me over to the sofa. There are a couple candles on the table, which Baz lights with a flick of his hand. I try to ignore the near thoughtless use of magic, focus on Baz instead. 

“What’s all this?” 

“Can’t have a proper picnic in the middle of February can we?” Baz shrugs. 

“You wanted to take me on a picnic? That’s awfully gay, don’t you think?” 

Baz quirks an eyebrow at me. I usually find that gesture incredibly infuriating, but something about it in this context… 

“I’m your boyfriend, Simon.” 

I catch myself smiling and that tight feeling in my chest is back. Is that normal? Am I having a heart attack? Aren’t I too young for that? 

Baz is still watching me, that eyebrow raised. I say, “That’s awfully gay, too, innit?” And Baz huffs a laugh, shaking his head. 

“You’re a nightmare.” He reaches for the basket, opening it and pulling out a small container. “Here, I asked Cook Pritchard to make a few of these for you.” 

I take the tin from him. “Are these…?” 

Watford sour cherry scones. They’re a bit cold, but that’s okay. They’re still delicious, and I had missed them more than I thought I could miss a scone. There are a lot of things about Watford that I miss. 

“Crowley, Snow,” Baz laughs as I’m stuffing a second scone into my mouth. “Doesn’t Bunce feed you?”

“Not scones.” 

“Here.” Baz slides his wand from his sleeve, murmuring a  **_You’re getting warmer_ ** on the scones left in the tin. Then he’s reaching back for the basket and passing me a small tub of butter. Merlin, he’s perfect. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t - I don’t have anything for you,” I frown. “I - I didn’t think you’d do anything, honestly. Never seemed the Valentine’s type, actually.”

“That’s okay.” Baz takes the tin from me and sits it back on the table, takes my hand in his. “I’m not, usually, but… I wanted to do something for you, yeah?” 

“Why?” 

Baz scoffs. “Are you serious?” 

I shrug, and I suddenly feel like I’ve got a lump in my throat. It’s been sometime since I felt anything other than empty, but today I keep getting these little bursts of  _ something _ in my chest and stomach. 

“Because you deserve it.” Baz purses his lips, watches me for a moment. “Seemed a good excuse to come see you, and spend time with you.” 

“Baz, did you miss me?” I’m smiling again, and Baz is, too, and I think he’d be blushing if he could. He rolls his eyes, and I recognize it now as a fond gesture rather than annoyance. 

“Yes, Simon,” he sighs. “I missed you. I miss you constantly. After seven insufferable years sharing a room with you, being there without you is… strange. I don’t like it.” 

That feeling is back, something warm and sharp and tight, and I think I almost recognize it. I reach for Baz, cup his cheeks in my hands, and he doesn’t even complain about the grease that’s definitely still on my fingers from the scones. He leans into my touch, even, and when his stormy grey eyes look directly at me I feel like I can’t breathe but also like I’ll never need to breathe again if he’s looking at me like that. 

Fuck, I love him. 

The thought alone scares me, and I think it’s definitely too soon to say it, but I  _ do _ . I know it, I can  _ feel _ it, because it’s the first thing I’ve felt beyond this numbness in weeks. And it’s overwhelming, if I’m honest, but not in the bad way that I’m used to. Not in the way that used to make my magic bubble to the surface, not in the way that used to leave me feeling like I was about to go off. 

I still don’t know what to  _ do  _ with those feelings, though, so I pull Baz’s face to mine and kiss him because it’s all I can think of. I can't say it, but maybe I can show it. I can pour everything I have into  _ this _ , and maybe he’ll feel it. And it’s like all those times I tried to push my magic into him. I press my hands against his chest, and I push everything I have towards him. Into him. 

**BAZ**

I’m snogging my boyfriend on my aunt’s sofa. 

My boyfriend, Simon Snow, is snogging me  _ into _ my aunt’s sofa, sour cherry scones all but forgotten as he moves his mouth against mine and presses me into the cushions. He tastes like cherries and salt and home. His fingers dig into my shoulders as mine slide into his curls, pulling him in, holding him as close as possible. 

I’m not sure I’ve not died and gone to heaven, somehow, because this is  _ everything _ . 

I’m not sure how long we kiss, but eventually Simon’s stomach rumbles and we break apart laughing. He moves back in for the scones, which I heat for him once again, and I tell him about Watford like I would when we talk on the phone at night. 

Then he tells me about Penny, and spending time with the Bunces. And it may be the longest conversation we’ve held in months. 

For a moment I see a flicker of the Simon Snow that trekked through the snow to my front door twice, and I think that we just might get him back after all. 

What I do know is I’ll have to add one more holiday to the calendar, because a day dedicated to making Simon smile like  _ that _ is worth celebrating. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr: [ @pipsqueakparker ](pipsqueakparker.tumblr.com)


End file.
